


Hostile

by dragonnan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fanart, Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Whump, Sick Character, sgam76
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23137780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonnan/pseuds/dragonnan
Summary: Sherlock tends to let his mouth get him in trouble.Inspired by Sgam76's amazing fanfic, "Redemption"
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Hostile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sgam76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgam76/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Redemption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390473) by [sgam76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgam76/pseuds/sgam76). 



> Spoilers for chapter 11

\-- Excerpt from Chapter 11: Acute Infection: Part Five

_By the time they were all dressed and outside, G was huffily pacing in the barn lot. “We should have left 10 minutes ago,” he snapped, as Mycroft and John tossed the rucksacks in the back. “I told Mr. Moran we would be on the way by 8. I need to call him and let him know you’ve delayed us.”_

_Sherlock, as always, rose to the bait. “Of course. Like any well-trained puppy, you must present yourself for discipline. I wonder, does it involve submissive urination when necessary?” And before anyone could react, G’s arm shot out and backhanded Sherlock on the side of his jaw, hard. The detective staggered and would have gone down had his brother not caught him._

_John was striding towards the driver when he was preempted by Mycroft, one arm still supporting his sibling. “I will be contacting Mr. Moran myself momentarily,” he said, in tones that could strip paint. “I doubt he will be impressed to hear that you have laid hands on one of the two people necessary to complete this mission--the one who is already ill and needing special care.” Sherlock, at his side, tried to push the supporting arm away, his pale, furious face reddened by the clear imprint of G’s hand. Mycroft’s arm, though, moved down to grip his wrist firmly, preventing him from moving closer to his attacker._

_Mycroft took out his phone and stalked back into the house alone, while G stood indecisively beside the car before trotting in after him. Sherlock snickered, loud enough that G certainly heard him, going by the sudden rigid set of his shoulders._

_“You’re an idiot,” Anthea sighed, before dropping into the rear seat to wait. “He started it,” Sherlock huffed. John shook his head at both of them, then walked back into the house to get a cold, damp flannel to put on Sherlock’s flame-red cheek._


End file.
